


A Shoulder To Lean On

by Thorin2Oakenshield



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Assassin - Freeform, Bleeding, Looking after you, M/M, Pain, Revenge, being shot, gun shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17590952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorin2Oakenshield/pseuds/Thorin2Oakenshield
Summary: "Oswald, speak to me! Stay awake. It's vital you stay awake so I can keep an eye on you."He gently slapped Oswald's cheeks to help him stay awake, as he removed the blood soaked jacket and then undid his tie. The shirt was ripped open quickly, since there was no time for etiquette now. Ed got a good view of the gaping wound and could see the bullet was still lodged inside and he would have no alternative than to use tweezers to remove it."The bullet is still inside. I'm going to have to remove it with some tweezers. Try to relax. I'm going to look after you, Oswald. Trust me."





	A Shoulder To Lean On

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story involving Oswald being shot as new Mayor of Gotham. Ed rushes to save his friend and ultimately save his life. After removing the bullet Ed looks after Oswald vowing to take revenge on whoever injured his friend and lover.
> 
> Feel free to comment etc.
> 
> More Oswald/Ed times to come!

Edward Nygma's hand trembled when he finally killed his phone call. He was physically _shaking._ The news wasn't sinking in at all. His mouth had gone dry and his mind was racing at a hundred miles per hour.

Oswald had been shot.

Ed wasted no time in pulling open the door to the mansion and running towards the car. It was Oswald who had made the phone call to him. Some maniac had taken a shot at the Mayor whilst he was out on a photo shoot. No doubt the GCPD were already on their way, tracking down the bastard who did this. Would the would-be assassin even get caught? If not, Ed would find him and personally smash his skull open with a fresh bullet from his own gun.

He revved the engine up and tore out of the drive towards where Oswald last said he was. He had near collapsed outside of the restaurant they often visited. God. Who the hell did this?! Ed's face was a mask of pure anger; his teeth grinded against each other whilst he drove to the location of his friend. He didn't even care if he was speeding or driving like a maniac. Oswald could be fucking dying.

Once he was there, Ed killed the engine and practically tore open the door when he reached his destination. Where was Oswald? Shit. Ed looked around frantically then dived down a nearby alleyway. There he was hunched over clutching at his wound; his face was ashen white but he was still breathing. Thank God.

"Oswald! I'm here- oh, God. What did they do to you?"

He immediately ran to his friend's side, trying to asses his wound and where he got shot. It seemed the bullet passed through Oswald's right shoulder, leaving a nasty gaping hole with gouts of blood pouring from it. Damn. He would have to work fast. Oswald's breathing was laboured and his hand was covering his right shoulder where the bullet had ripped through his fragile flesh. Were any bones shattered? Who knew. Right now the priority was getting Oswald back to the mansion where he could take care of him. Ed's throat bobbed, as he tried to stay calm.

"Save your energy and try to keep calm. Keep talking, Oswald. Say anything."

Ed picked up the limp form of his injured friend, hearing a protesting cry of pain from Oswald and carried him to the car, pulling open the back passenger seat and gently sliding him in. He made sure Oswald's feet were all the way inside before slamming the door shut and jumping back into the driver's seat. He wasted no time in driving back to the mansion, still worried about Oswald. How much blood had he lost? They soon arrived back to the Van Dahl Mansion, as Ed opened the passenger door to get his friend out, carrying him quickly into the house and placing him down onto the soft rug in the parlour.

"Oswald, speak to me! Stay awake. It's vital you stay awake so I can keep an eye on you."

He gently slapped Oswald's cheeks to help him stay awake, as he removed the blood soaked jacket and then undid his tie. The shirt was ripped open quickly, since there was no time for etiquette now. Ed got a good view of the gaping wound and could see the bullet was still lodged inside and he would have no alternative than to use tweezers to remove it.

"The bullet is still inside. I'm going to have to remove it with some tweezers. Try to relax. I'm going to look after you, Oswald. Trust me."

Oswald groaned; his face was pale, pallid and clammy all over. He was moving in and out of consciousness but could see Ed's face as a blurred outline in front of him. He desperately wanted to touch it; to reassure Ed that he was glad he was still alive thanks to this man. Yet, Oswald could hardly move; he was paralysed with pain and felt sick. Ed got to work finding some tweezers from the bathroom and some antiseptic, which he found in Oswald's medical cabinet. He moved to the fire to heat up the tweezers to a good temperature before moving back to his patient. Carefully, Ed sank the tweezers into Oswald's blood-soaked shoulder finding the bullet and grabbing hold of it.

"Ah- Ed- _shit!_ "

Oswald's eyes widened for a fraction of a second when he felt the sharp stab of tweezers in his gaping wound. He was pulled back into reality with a cruel yank, as the pain seared through his injured shoulder. It was like being stung by a wasp but much worse. More like having a hot knife thrust into your soft flesh. It hurt like hell. Oswald shivered with pain and blood loss, as he felt the bullet being pulled from his ragged flesh. It was a painful friction of skin sucking against the force of Ed's tweezers. 

"Nearly there, Oswald. Just one- final pull-"

Eventually the silver bullet was popped out of the grizzled hole and placed into a dish. Ed used some gauze soaked in antiseptic to douse the wound, pressing hard to staunch the blood. Oswald's chest was a mask of dried blood, since the wound had been a bloody one. What sort of gun had they used? A revolver? It was a strong hard shot that nearly shattered the collarbone. It missed by mere millimetres.

"It'll be alright now, Oswald. I'm treating the wound and applying a bandage to stop the bleeding. I know you won't want to go into hospital so I'm going to look after you here."

What else could Ed do? He had to look after his friend. His lover. The man meant everything to him. Revenge could come at a later date but for now? He had to focus on getting Oswald better. The poor man had suffered a huge shock to his system and it might be days or weeks before he's up and about like his usual self. What would the media think? Oswald Cobblepot; Mayor. Killed by unknown assassin? Who cared.

The man was alive and that was all that mattered to Edward Nygma. Ed dressed the wound with a bandage which went around Oswald's back under his arm. It would do to keep his shoulder still while the wound healed over. There would be another scar to add to his already pock-marked skin.

Once some colour had drained back into Oswald's face, Ed lifted him up and carried him upstairs to his bedroom, carefully lying him down on the soft bed. He undressed the rest of his clothes and managed to slide some pyjama pants onto Oswald's naked legs. His chest would have to stay uncovered due to the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and back. Thank God Ed knew first aid. Oswald finally opened his eyes properly and felt the room fade back into view. Where was he? At home? In his bedroom it seemed.

"Ed?- Please- I- so thirsty-"

His voice came out cracked and weak; his mouth was dry as a desert and he desperately craved a drink. Ed frowned at Oswald's words but got up and immediately went to fetch a glass of water, returning swiftly and placing it gently into Oswald's hands, holding them inside his own.

"Here's some water, Oswald. I'll find whoever did this to you and kill them. You don't need to worry about anything else."

Oswald sipped the water and nearly choked. His throat wasn't ready for the cool liquid and it took him a moment before he could speak once more. Ed slid a hand up to caress his friend's cheek.

"The bastard who did this to me. He was a coward. A low life. He shot me from behind the crowd. Find him, Ed. Kill him. Ed- I- thank you for saving my life. It seems I owe you one."

He wouldn't find peace until he knew that man was dead and buried. Oswald made good on revenge and he knew that his Chief of Staff would make sure the guy would be made example of. No one tried to kill Oswald Cobblepot.

"Don't worry, Oswald. I will find whoever did this but for now? Rest. I'll keep popping in every few hours to see how you are. Alright? Knock the wall if you need help. I'll be listening."

Ed moved to press a soft kiss to Oswald's lips before leaving the room, partly closing the door behind him. Revenge would be sweet.


End file.
